


Perhaps in a Different Life

by DragonGirl218



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Age Difference, Fluff, Healer!Ardyn, M/M, Some angst, Spoilers, ardyn background spoilers, fluffy promdyn set two thousand years ago, he still starts in his mid teens though, though it starts out platonic and doesn't get romantic until Prom's of age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10012769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl218/pseuds/DragonGirl218
Summary: The Healer Prince of Lucis learns of a boy orphaned by the Star-Plague, who has himself been afflicted.  He cannot allow the boy to suffer and die, but he has no idea how much this act of kindness will affect himself as well.





	1. Chapter 1

There was a commotion outside.  Loud shouts, stomping feet, the squawks of chocobos.

The boy shuddered.  Were they finally coming for him?  It wasn’t like he’d done anything to them.  His parents had succumbed to the Plague months ago.  He gnawed on the stale slice of bread.  It was all the food he had left after his last trip to the market.  The time when his own infection had finally become visible and he’d been chased back to his house.  It had been a couple weeks since then.  He hadn’t left.  He’d hoped they would forget about him.  Just let him die in peace.

A sudden knock at the door startled him.  His bread fell to the floor -- not that he cared, really. It was already moldy, but it made no difference when one was on death’s door.  He’d still eat it, if he could.  But that required not dying now.

A pair of knocks in quick succession rang throughout the dirty, mostly empty one-room house.  With barely a thought, he scrambled to the furthest corner of the house and curled up as much as he could.  He just wanted to die in peace.  Not at the end of a sword or pitchfork.  Even if it meant starving after today.

“Boy?  Are you in there?”  It was a new voice.  One he’d never heard.  It sounded mature and… kind?  His heart skipped a beat.  But he refused to hope.  Maybe the village had hired a wandering hero.  Too scared to kill him themselves.

The door slowly started to open.  The boy panicked.  He slammed his eyes closed and began to shake violently.  Despite his best efforts, a quiet whimper escaped his throat.  He knew a swift death would end his suffering.  End the feeling as if his flesh was rotting away whilst maggots squirmed beneath his skin.  He didn’t really fear  _ death _ .  He feared the pain he would feel, even for a mere moment.  It was already too much.  He couldn’t handle more.

The sound of soft footsteps caught his attention, getting closer with each step.  He curled up more, trying to hide as much of his skin as he could.  Maybe if he didn’t show any signs, he’d be left alone.

The footsteps stopped suddenly.  He could tell the person was in front of him now.  Tears rolled down his cheeks unbidden.  Sobs replaced worried breaths.  He wasn’t ready to die…!

There was a rustle of clothes and, suddenly, a hand rested on the boy’s shoulder.  He pulled away instinctively.  “Leave me alone!” he shouted hoarsely.  He hadn’t spoken at all since he resigned himself to avoiding human interaction.  “Just let me starve in peace!”

“I’ve come to  _ help _ you, child,” the man murmured, his voice calm as a midsummer’s breeze.  “I can rid you of the Plague, if you’d allow me.”

Slowly, hesitantly, the boy looked up at him.  He knew he looked like a mess.  He was covered in dirt, dust, and grime.  Worse, of course, were the effects of the Plague.  Purplish-black marks covered much of the skin on his arms and legs, as well as a large patch of the left side of his face and neck.  It even crept into his eye, turning the affected area of the sclera black, and a portion of his normally deep blue iris had turned unnaturally purple.  At first he didn’t dare look at the man, but after a few moments of silence, his curiosity got the better of him.  He knew it’d be some look of horror.  He  _ knew _ it.  But he had to confirm…

His eyes widened as he finally saw the man’s face.  He couldn’t have been much beyond the cusp of adulthood with how soft his features still were.  Wavy locks of maroon hair framed his face, and gentle honey-amber eyes looked kindly upon the boy.  The thing which really caught his eye though was the man’s smile.  Serene and peaceful, concerned but without the slightest hint of pity.

Maybe he really did want to help.

But it was impossible.  His illness was incurable.  Everyone knew that.

“...How?” he asked brokenly.  His lack of any sort of hope was clearly written on his face, and played in his voice.

“May I touch your face?” the man asked, clearly willing to take “no” as an answer.

There was a drawn-out silence as the boy considered before he nodded slowly.  Whatever the man had up his sleeve, it couldn’t be worse than he already expected anyway.

The man’s kind smile widened at the response.  “Relax for me, please.  This may feel uncomfortable, but I promise with all my heart and soul it will help,” he said, voice like silk, as he gently placed his right hand against the boy’s infected cheek and lightly rested his forehead against the boy’s.  He closed his eyes and soon soft golden light radiated from where hand met cheek, gradually intensifying until it enveloped both of them.

The boy yelped and squirmed as he felt the Plague writhe beneath his skin.  It felt worse than anything he’d felt before and he instinctively tried to get away.  A strong arm wrapped around his back stopped him, however.

“I am… sorry,” the man said, pain barely audible in his voice.  “I wish I had… found you sooner.  It would not have hurt so much,” he apologized sincerely.  The process took several minutes more until finally the light faded away and he pulled back.  “Tell me, dear child, how do you feel?”

“I…”  He trailed off and looked up at his savior with tears in his now fully-blue eyes.  “I’m… not… in pain…?”  He was both bewildered and amazed as he looked down at the normal, pale skin on his arms.  No words could express how he felt.  Instead, he lunged at the man hugged him tightly, openly crying against his chest.

“It’s alright now, child.”  The man held him close with one arm and gently stroked the boy’s dusty, dirty, blond hair.  “You are Healed.  You needn’t fear death any longer,” he whispered, soft and warm.


	2. Chapter 2

The two remained close until the boy finally got his tears under control.

“What is your name?” the Healer asked as he slowly released his grip and allowed the blond to pull back.

The boy looked up at him, still infinitely grateful.  “It’s… Prompto, sir,” he replied softly.

The man smiled warmly at Prompto.  “Such a lovely name for such a pure soul.  Mine is Ardyn, by the by,” he replied with a friendly sort of carefree attitude.

“Ardyn…?”  The name was unusual, but it felt natural on his tongue.  “How could I ever repay you, Ardyn?  I don’t have anything to give…” he said sadly.

Ardyn merely chuckled.  “You needn’t repay me, dear boy.  The fact you have a life to live is enough for me,” he responded kindly.

Prompto frowned.  “I… don’t have much of a life to live,” he admitted quietly.  “I’m only sixteen.  Too old to be raised by another, but too young to live on my own unless I slave away day in and day out…”  There was silence, until he suddenly looked into the Healer’s golden eyes.  “Could I journey with you?” he asked eagerly.

Ardyn did a double take and looked at the boy critically.  “...Do you realize exactly what that will entail?”

Prompto shook his head.  “I don’t know exactly, but I’d be willing to do anything.  You saved my life, after all!  I would  _ gladly _ give my life for your sake in return,” he replied, borderline pleading.

Ardyn’s expression softened.  He reached out and gently laid his hand against the blond’s cheek.  “I can tell you won’t be swayed from this, if what you said is true,” he said softly.  “Just know that your life  _ will _ be on the line.  My duty is not only to Heal, but to strike down daemons when they threaten the lives of others,” he warned.

The boy thought that over a while before he nodded seriously.  “I only hope I won’t be a burden to you.  My parents were weavers, so I don’t know much in the way of weapons,” he admitted.

“That  _ would _ explain the loom I saw when I entered,” Ardyn replied lightly.  “I can work with that.  If you’ve followed in their footsteps, then that dedicated focus and ability to conceptualize a design should lend well to teaching you to wield a weapon,” he said easily, though his gaze was stern.  If the boy wasn’t willing to learn the way of a blade then he wouldn’t bring him along on such a dangerous quest.

“I…”  Whatever hesitant thought he was about to voice, it was aborted early.  Rather than reply immediately as he’d been about to do, he took time to think it over.  It sounded like learning to fight might be a requirement.  He didn’t much like the concept of bloodshed, but if it was mostly against daemons anyway…  “I will learn, if that is what I must do,” he finally said, determination in his eyes.

The Healer smiled, satisfied with that answer.  He stood up and offered his hand to Prompto to help the boy up.  With both of them standing, Ardyn couldn’t help a small giggle.  He was more than a foot taller than Prompto.  Of course he was used to being quite taller than most people, but given that he’d spoken with the blond face-to-face on the floor, it was a sudden surprise that caught him off guard.

Prompto looked up at him and giggled as well.  Ardyn was  _ soooo tall _ .  Like, how was this guy that tall?  It was then that his eyes settled on his family’s loom.  He glanced between the Healer and the loom as an idea came to him.  “Are you going to be leaving immediately?”

Ardyn looked at his new charge and smiled slightly.  “I was planning on spending the night in this village.  Why do you ask?”

“I… want to make a gift for you, but it would take more time than we have left today,” he admitted with a small smile.

Ardyn glanced back at the loom, then returned his gaze back to Prompto.  “Might I ask what you have in mind, or is it a surprise~?” he asked, clearly intrigued.

Prompto’s answer was simple.  “A scarf.”


End file.
